Consequences
by FurryBoots
Summary: Contemplative/Retrospective, post 3.04. Bo/Lauren. Likely multiple short chapters.
1. Chapter 1

The air smells sharply of pine, dry needles rustling under my booted feet as I stroll through the sparse undergrowth. I shiver against the cool air, burrowing deeper into the comforting shelter of my thick jacket, walking aimlessly as I try to forget.

It's been three days now. Three days without her, and I don't know how to cope with the loss. I can still feel her warmth shifting above me when I close my eyes; the way she moves, her searching kiss, her soft, demanding touch as she plays my body in the night.

I love her. I love her, heart and soul, but it's not enough.


	2. Chapter 2

Ground rules, we said. Everything will work out with ground rules. Ignore the way your heart screams every time that hunger is sated. Because it's not a betrayal when you agree to it. Because it's the only way.

_The only way she can stay._

She whispered my name as I left. I almost stopped, almost turned to take her in my arms, almost kissed her with that raw, desperate abandon I know she craves. But I'll never come to terms with this with her at my side. This dance is mine alone.

* * *

Sometime through the night it snowed, gracing the scenic northern landscape with a soft wintry kiss. I left the cabin early this morning, rising with the dawn. It must be close to noon, now. My legs ache from walking, so I take a moment to rest on a fallen tree trunk, stretching my weary muscles with a satisfying groan. My phone chirps happily, the sound incongruously at odds with my melancholy mood. Even here, so far from civilization, I have to be available. [_You're so important_, she whispers, teasingly, as she rolls towards me. Her hot breath caresses my ear, her voice low and rough from sleep.] My flesh prickles in response, until a deep, reverberating vibration shifts me from my reverie. Pulling the phone from my pocket, I glance once at the text message.

NEED YOU NOW. URGENT.

I place the phone on the trunk beside me with a heavy sigh. I'm not ready, not yet. Let someone else handle it. The bright screen flashes again in my peripheral vision, chirping and rumbling impatiently, like an angry puppy. I reach for it irritably, read, and stab perfunctorily at the screen. _I got it the first time. Not now._

As the ringtone begins to sound, I throw the phone hard with a surge of irrational anger. _A few days, just a few days to myself. _After everything I've done, everything I've been through. Just a moment to be solitary, to be alone.

The phone lands softly in the fresh snow. With a muttered curse of resignation, I stride purposefully to pick it from its frosty resting place. The screen smears as I wipe it impatiently with a gloved hand.

1 NEW VOICEMAIL.

_Okay. Alright._

My breath catches as I realize who it's from. Her voice is soft, controlled. Even, in sharp contrast to my own.

"I know you need space. I just needed to hear your voice. Please come home. We can do this. Together we can do this. I love you."

The message ends abruptly as she hangs up. I stare through the screen as it fades to black.


	3. Chapter 3

Sometimes, taking yourself out of a situation brings clarity. I thought I was the strong one. I was wrong. Sex is just sex, she said. Just recharging a battery - it's science. What we have is more.

And she's right.

The problem is, I don't think she truly believes it herself. Meeting her eyes, after - I know that somewhere, buried deep, it hurts. Every time, it hurts. And that's science, too.

I have to go back. I'm needed. Knowing that doesn't make the long, solitary drive home any easier. I'm thinking about her as the miles pass; about what to say, how to say it. About whether this break has done any damned good at all. About what makes her smile, what makes her squirm. About what makes her gasp, what makes her moan, what makes her scream.

* * *

[I shiver as her fingertips trace the hem of my shirt where it meets my pants, skin on skin. My thigh pushes hard against the heat between her legs, and she moans softly against me. I wind one hand through her hair, the other tight on her lower back, pulling her into me. Her hips grind instinctively against my thigh, seeking more contact, more friction.

With a sharp tug I jerk her head firmly to the right, my lips claiming her throat hungrily as I trail a path of slow kisses from her collarbone to her jaw. As I release her she looks at me, her eyes hot and fierce. My fingers flex possessively in her hair, maintaining a subtle gesture of control. I hold her gaze for a long moment; her eyes close in tacit submission as I move to kiss her.

Her soft lips meet mine, and my blood rushes south with a speed that leaves me dazed. Her lips part; the kiss is slow at first, languid, but ramps quickly as her tongue grazes my lower lip. My breath catches in a low groan; my hands drop to her waist, fingers working at the button of her pants. Her nails dig hard into my back, and I feel her smile a small victory against my lips.]

* * *

I slam the brakes, hard.

I'm thinking about her, and I'm hungry.


	4. Chapter 4

_You don't have to do this._

I'm not an animal. I'm not hurt, not injured.

But I _want._

The gas station called like a Siren from the dark. The young clerk stares at me blankly, already enthralled. My thumb strokes the back of her hand persuasively as I give her a slow, sensual smile.

"Could you show me where the washroom is, please?"

The redhead nods, fumbling awkwardly beneath the counter for a key. I pull her impatiently from behind the register, and she follows, unresisting.

The bathroom door slams shut behind us as I push her up against the wall. She stands passively as I take what I need, my fingers flowing intimately over her flesh in a practiced rhythm. Her hips thrust against my hand, her breath coming in short, strangled gasps. I close my lips over hers as she groans her release, and it's done. As she slides down the wall to the cold floor, I step over to wash my hands in the sink. Eyeing my reflection critically, I try to ignore the insistent pang of guilt. _Don't think about it. Don't_.

She looks up at me weakly as I dry my hands. Stepping over her legs as I make my way back outside, I give her a warm smile.

"Thanks. You were great."


	5. Chapter 5

I couldn't seem to call her after that. All I could muster instead was a simple text.

MISS YOU. MEET ME AT THE BAR.

And she did.

We talked. She could tell I'd... that I wasn't hungry. I saw it in her eyes, in the way her lips tightened, almost imperceptibly, just for a moment. She touched me, then; she kissed me, softly. And her kiss told me she loved me.


	6. Chapter 6

_ Give me everything._

The adjuration repeats, endlessly, as she walks away. I've asked too much.

_ I need this. I need __**you**__._

Her name spills from my lips, unbidden.

_ come back._

_ please._

She stops, tense, and it's everything I have just to keep it together. I take a step towards her, two. She turns then, looking at me with dark, turbulent eyes, her lip caught between her teeth with a hesitant reserve.

_ Thank god. Thank god it's not just me._

_ She wants this, too._

"Come with me," I say, quietly. She drops her eyes from mine, and I will my hands to stay at my sides. As much as I want to, need to... this is far too public for either of us.

Her eyes follow my hand as I take the car keys from my pocket, and I know she's mine.

* * *

The drive is silent, the consequences weighing heavily on both of us. Stairs. A door. Nothing seems fixed, my heart thudding in a turmoil of raw emotion.

I pause as the key slides into the lock, my fingertips on the door handle. _Be sure._

I'm not.

I clear my throat and turn my head to look at her. Her eyes flick to meet mine as she makes her own choice; a single step towards me. "We don't have to do this," I whisper, softly, as I turn the handle.

We both know it's a lie.

* * *

Her lips are soft and warm against my throat as the door closes behind us. I shiver in the knowledge that she needs this just as much as I do, but it's not control she wants; it's affirmation. I wind the fingers of both hands through her soft blonde hair, bringing her lips to mine. The kiss is slow, tender, and I put all of the words I can't seem to say out loud into the press of my lips on hers. I rest my forehead against hers for a long, agonizing moment as we break apart.

Because that's what's happening here; I'm breaking, slowly. To have so much buried so, so deep; to be who you are, but not. We mold ourselves into a shape that's recognizable and acceptable, because that's how it has to be. But those buried fragments, those dark, tumultuous needs are every bit as much a part of us as the face we show to the world every day.

* * *

I sit on the edge of the bed; she sits on the floor, pressed against me, her head resting on my knee. It feels... right. I stroke her hair, and she turns her head to place a soft kiss against my palm. I sigh aloud as a jolt of gratification thrills my skin.

I want to be gentle; I want to give her indulgent pain. I want to talk this out; I want her bound, raw, panting my name. I want soft, tender kisses, and I want to blindfold her, to stroke her with my fingers, my tongue, or that favorite toy she likes to tease me about. I want it all; I want it all of _her._

I turn her face to me with gentle but insistent fingers. She turns her head compliantly, her eyes willing but cautious in the dim candlelight. "Come here," I say, softly. "Kiss me."

* * *

The bed is soft and comfortable beneath me. I lie outstretched, relaxed against thick, downy pillows. My fingers brush delicately over smooth skin, naked and pale in soft reflected light. The air is cool, and her flesh prickles with a reflexive shiver. I smile as she burrows closer to me, tight against my side.

"Something we need, doctor." We. Because this is about us, not me. She freezes, her breath catching as she waits for me, full breasts pressing insistently as her chest rhythmically rises and falls. I exhale, slowly.

_ Here, now._

I push up with my arm, moving quickly, rolling her beneath me, holding my weight in my arms. Her breath leaves her in a quick, surprised gasp, quickly cut off. Her eyes are wide and dark as she looks up at me, then quickly away. "Look at me," I whisper, heatedly. Her eyes return to mine in confusion, and I search them intently, looking for an answer to my silent question.

_ Are you sure?_

Her legs part beneath me; her consent is all the invitation I need. I lower my weight slowly on top of her, pressing her into the mattress, my hips grinding slowly between her legs, giving her the friction she needs. "Show me how much you want me," I breathe, deliberately, my fingers tightening on the soft, pliant skin of her neck. Her breath quickens in response; warm, eager lips on mine as her hands move, tentative at first, her grip tightening instinctively as I touch my tongue to hers. A low moan escapes her throat, inflaming my desire, my need to have her, to claim what's mine.

What's always been mine.


End file.
